by Claire Cray
My face went smooth. For a moment I could only stare at the folded letter in his hand, at the broken seal, at his delighted little smile. A chain of curses passed through my mind, but finding none sufficient, I only shook my head. Theo began to wag the paper at me and I snatched it out of his hand, turning on my heel.
"Safe travels, friend!" he called after me, his Virginia drawl exaggerated to its limits.
It was still raining when I stalked out onto the porch. I leaned against the corner post, watching it fall on the cobblestones, clutching the letter to my chest as if to cover a wound. I should wait to read it, I thought, until I was far away from Theo and his venomous prattle—but I could not bear another moment.
The sight of Merrick's elegant script made me bite my lip.
My friend,
I hope you will come by to find this letter before long, and forgive the sudden change in plans.
My heart dropped, but I read on.
Tomorrow I leave for Boston, where I dearly hope you will join me as soon as you are able. As promised, there will be no further delay: our business will commence on the evening of your arrival. I have made the preparations necessary to attend to this matter with all the concern it is due. Though I cannot hope to put your heart at ease after all that has yet transpired, I must assure you that I intend to support you in the most devoted capacity.
Here the formal veneer began to flake away, and with each word I felt a most exquisite confidence gathering in my breast.
All Miseries must come to an end. Forgive my airs of suffering, my dear friend. I could fill pages with my torments of late, but in truth there is no greater pain than knowing how many unhappy thoughts I have inflicted upon your faithful soul. Have I any right to wish for your company? These past weeks have been haunted by visions of last Summer—my quill is poised to trace the details. Yet I can say nothing until I have made amends to your friendship, and I cannot begin until you are in my arms. Then there will nothing in the World of sufficient concern to divert me from the endeavor.
Thank God! The declarations were all I had longed for. My heart soared as I read those lines again, and I let out a long sigh.
Avail yourself freely of the funds that remain in Greenwich—you know where they are kept. Spare no expense to book a comfortable cabin, and do not refuse it, for I’ve already relinquished it. Buy a suit or a dozen books—whatever is left you can hand out to Boston's urchins, if you like.
Forgive the brevity of this letter—I am ever asking your Forgiveness—but it is difficult even to write you, as the very act only sharpens your absence. I am a fool to have left you. In the hope of seeing you within the week, I remain
Your devoted friend,
Silas
I folded the letter up, put it in my pocket, and glanced back through the open doors of the coffee shop. The table where I’d left Theo was vacant now. I did not look for the coffee-man.
That was it.
That was all.
I was ready.
CHAPTER EIGHT
And so it was that on Tuesday evening, the day after I’d received Merrick’s letter, I set out for the waterfront to bid my life goodbye. By my side, of course was Jeremy, who insisted on seeing me off. The summer heat had eased its soggy weight from the city that day, giving us the chance to enjoy the clear sky and the salty air that flowed up all the streets of lower Manhattan from the East River. But still we dragged our feet, sauntering more slowly than we’d ever done, silently making the most of our last moments together.
Of course, Jeremy only feared that would be the case. On the other hand, I knew for a fact that I would not see him again; at least not as I was, and hopefully not as I was soon to be. So when he spoke of my journey as if I would return, my heart felt torn to rags and my eyes felt continually pricked by tears. And he was making every effort to be lighthearted, setting aside his own thoughts on the matter to send me off in good cheer. God, I’d miss him.
“I always thought we might go off together,” Jeremy said. “When we were little. I thought we’d join a whaling crew.”
“I know,” I managed a laugh. “We talked about it every day until, what? Last year?”
“Not too late. I’m already sick of this dump just at the thought of you leavin’ again. It’s so boring when you’re not here, you can’t imagine it.”
“It’s not so bad. Now that I’m on the way out.” It was always our habit to complain about being trapped in New York, having never been anywhere else but always surrounded by foreigners and travelers of every class and breed. In truth we both knew it was a grand place, and indeed, I’d never been so fond of it as I was now that I was leaving.
“It’ll be a whole new mess by the time you’re back. The way they’re mucking up the ponds and what-have-you.”
“Well, if it’s rotten then we’ll go West,” I offered, my chest tight.
“There’s an idea,” he said with an approving nod. Then, seeing my expression, he let out a sigh and slung his arm about my shoulders. I hung my arm around his in return, and we walked that way like two unusually steady drunks.
“You’ll look out for my mother,” I said. I hardly needed to phrase it as a question. She’d been like a mother to him, as well. “And if I should not return…”
“I’ll send the Navy after you. Every ship in the fleet.” His arm tightened around me. “You’ll be all right, Lacy. But if you don’t return, I’ll look after everything you’d want looked after.”
“Yourself included.”
“Goes without sayin’, doesn’t it?”
We stopped on the corner of Fulton and Pearl, almost within view of South Street and the port. Already we could hear the shouts of the sailors and passengers, the loud commotion of cargo being handled. But before we made a line for the ship that would carry me away, there was one more goodbye to make.
My mother was coming up Pearl Street just then, walking beneath the shade of the trees that fronted the rows of houses, smiling at us both. She was dressed in her favorite blue dress and matching cap, which flattered her willowy figure and brought out the warmest tones of her Seneca skin. No one in the world had a lovelier mother than Annabelle Lacy, or a kinder one, or stronger. I closed the distance between us and took her in my arms.
“Finally a great adventure,” she sighed, and when she pulled away I saw her eyes were sparkling with happiness despite the sheen of tears. She gripped my shoulders, smiling gently. “You must make the most of it. I know you will.”
“I will,” I said, my voice thick with emotion as I took my last look of her lovely face.
“I always knew you’d fly off,” she said, laying her hand on my cheek like I was still a boy. “I knew it the day you were born. You’ll be gone a long while, William, won’t you?”
I nodded, choked by tears, and put my hand over hers. “Will you be careful?” I begged. “And stay as you always are—don’t let any fools in your house while I’m gone. I’ll send money, and if you have any trouble you must write to me, and then go straight for this idiot. He’ll do whatever I’d do.”
My mother laughed softly. I wished I could see her shining black hair one last time. I wished I didn’t know I’d never be with her again in the quiet of the evening, reading by firelight as she did her mending and made her pretty things by needlepoint, singing he own mother’s old songs all the way. My wise and tender mother, of course she knew I’d fly off. In fact I had a feeling she already knew I’d not be coming back. She seemed to have made her peace with it enough to comfort me now.
“You must write to me,” she said. “Long, long letters all about your travels. I’ll share them with this princely young man you’ve left me with.” She said that loudly enough for Jeremy to hear where he’d stepped off to give us a moment, and I heard him snort softly behind me.
“I will,” I said, trying my damndest not to let my lips tremble.
“Don’t cry, my darling,” she whispered, and pulled my close again. “Don’t cry. You were born for a w
ild journey, and now it’s time to set sail. I’m so proud of you, William.”
“Thank you,” I choked out, and squeezed her tight. There was nothing more either of us could say, and I took comfort in knowing our hearts were open enough that we didn’t need the words at all. Finally letting her go, I kissed her cheek and took one last look at her shining face. “Farewell, mother.”
“Farewell, William.” She smoothed my hair, her eyes brimmed with tears. And then, with a final gentle smile, she nudged me on my way.
Jeremy fell in step with me again as we went on down Fulton, giving me a bit of silence to collect myself. Within moments we were in view of South Street, the wide promenade teeming with shouting men, tumbling crates, and gentlemanly passengers searching for their vessels.
“I’ve got to ask, Lacy.”
I turned to look at him fondly.
Jeremy raised his eyebrows, cocking his head. “You never thought me handsome?”
For a second I only gaped at him, and then I doubled over in laughter.
“A simple ‘no’ would suffice, you dumb cod.”
“Oh, God!” I wiped my eyes, shaking my head. “What if I had?”
“Guess you won’t find out,” he grinned.
I grabbed him in a bear hug. “Take care. Take care, Jeremy. Don’t forget me.”
“Forget my son-in-law?” he said, hugging me harder. “Shame you’ll miss the wedding.”
“Take care, lad.” I pulled back to look at him.
“You take care, Will.” He socked me in the chest. “Remember me.”
And so my last farewell was behind me. I made off alone down South Street, beneath the jutting bowsprits of the ships, and found my vessel. Within the hour I was watching New York fade into the distance, the ships and the skyline dark and lovely against the burning sunset. There was no telling when, or if, I’d ever return, but I took comfort in my mother’s words, as always. I could only hope it was true. For whether or not I was born for a wild journey, I was on it anyway.
CHAPTER NINE
I did not dwell on the mark of exhaustion on his face, for the heat in his eyes when he saw me was beautiful beyond words. He had appeared in the hall before me almost as soon as I set foot in the house, his solemn face made vulnerable by the whirlpools of emotion in his eyes: relief, wariness, concern, hope.
Hunger.
I let my bag slide off of my shoulder and onto the floor so I could unfasten my jacket. I hung it on the hook without looking away from him. He was staring at me in silence; and Lord, the house was dark, and his eyes were burning hot as embers. I drank in the sculpted planes of his face and figure, finding the shapes of his arms through his fine shirtsleeves, the trim lines of his body—Christ, the man could wear a waistcoat.
No, he could not doubt my conviction. He would not sense a hint of fear in me now.
Make me a vampire, then, if that was the price. I’d pay double, triple, a hundred times over. Whatever I had to do, I would do it, for there was nothing in the world that could smother the fire Merrick had lit in my heart. What else was I to feel? He was kind and enlightened. He smelled of cedar and mint. He knew healing magic and treated the poor and sick. He was handsome as the devil—and I loved him in every last goddamned intimate sense of the word.
And Merrick loved me! This man loved me. What were the odds of such a union? How was I to turn my back on a fortune so rare, so intriguing? To Hell with humanity, morality. To Hell with it all. I crossed the chamber swiftly and embraced him, hard.
For months Merrick had held me at a distance. But now he wrapped his arms around me at once.
"Merrick," I groaned, sliding one hand into his hair and letting my lips brush his ear. " I’ve longed for you. I’ve been sick with it. Let me be with you now."
Merrick exhaled softly, his hands moving up my back.
"Please—"
"Shhh." Merrick covered my lips with his thumb, turned my chin, and pressed a kiss to my mouth.
I wound my arms around his neck, taking it hungrily. How long? How long since the last kiss? Months! My heart raced as I held him close, shuddering each time his tongue slid against mine.
"William, William," he breathed at last, and smoothed my hair with a cool hand. His fingertips trailed down the side of my throat, tracing my vein.
Somewhere far below my haze of lust, the same old questions echoed faintly: Would it hurt? Would my heart stop beating? How long would it take? It didn't matter now—I would find out.
Merrick rested his cheek upon mine for a moment, his fingers still tenderly playing at my throat, and then he lowered his head and pressed his lips below my ear.
"Yes," I breathed, closing my eyes. We were still standing, which I guessed was not ideal, but the matter had left my hands—and good riddance! I was content to watch all my doubts and duties float away as I surrendered at last to Fate, tipping over the edge of no return.
"William." Merrick lifted his head and cradled my face, smoothing the pad of his thumb over my cheek as I gazed up at him in a stupor. His amber eyes had never held more heat, and he'd never looked at me with such intent. But there was a calm center in that storm of hunger, and his voice trembled only slightly when he asked, "Do you want this?"
I knew now that my answer mattered. The last time we met, I had been frustrated by his asking if I'd changed my mind. But now I understood that Merrick was asking me seriously: Did I still want to be a vampire with him? If I said no, I thought it very possible that he would kill me. After all this time thinking it over, if I had decided I could not bear the thought of life as a vampire, if I could not stomach the killing, if I would rather die than live without the humanity I was born with, then perhaps Merrick would give me the choice I’d taken from him. Perhaps he would grant me the option of death.
Or perhaps not. What did I know? And what did he want? I tightened my grip on his waistcoat. What do you want, Merrick? But he would not say, and I could not guess. I already knew I would simply have to find out for myself.
"Yes," I said without guile. "I want it.” And I thought of Theo, of how fiercely he’d told me to say it until it was done. “I want to be with you,” I said. “I want you to make me a vampire. I want you to do it now. I beg you to do it now."
Merrick closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to mine. His hands framed my face, then slowly moved down to my neck.
I watched his face as his fingers undid the knot of my cravat. His eyes were lowered to the task, his soft lips faintly pursed, and a thick lock of ebony hair had fallen over his brow. When I reached up to brush it aside, his fingers paused at my throat and he turned his head to sweep his lips against my wrist. Then he hooked a loop of my untied cravat and pulled, slowly, dragging the strip of linen from my collar, teasing the sensitive skin of my throat.
"How I missed you," I said without quite meaning to, and tilted my head up to kiss the edge of his jaw. I felt his soft sigh against my ear, and another loop of my cravat sliding free.
"My thirst for you has driven me to the brink of madness."
"I've dreamt of your bite."
Merrick pressed his lips to the corner of my mouth, and I kissed him tenderly. No matter what, my last moments as a human would be well spent. I felt the last inch of my cravat finally fall from my neck, felt him tuck it into my pocket. His fingers slipped beneath my collar, turning it back to bare his target. I could hear my own pulse pounding there like a drum; his coppery gold eyes were fastened to it.
So close. It was so close. I wound my arms about his shoulders as he lowered his head, moaned as he opened his mouth against my fluttering vein and pressed his teeth into my skin. The first nip made me gasp. His glass-sharp teeth broke the skin, but sank no further; he dragged his tongue over the little wound, making me shiver and lean against him.
Merrick groaned softly, a low and needful sound that turned my knees to butter. Cradling my head with one hand, he wound his other arm about my waist to hold me securely. And then, once more, I felt the edge of his
teeth.
"Ah," I gasped as I felt them begin to penetrate my skin. "Merrick!"
There was venom in a vampire’s bite, and I was already familiar with the strange and thrilling effects. But I had never felt them so intensely. Merrick’s bite sent spears of dark pleasure and delirium shooting through me, taking over my body at once, possessing me to arch against him in wanton surrender.
And then he drank.
I could feel his lips working gently against my skin, his arms holding me securely against him. I shifted unconsciously every time he swallowed, moaning in bliss, languid as a strand of willow leaves floating aloft in a steady breeze.
Merrick drank and drank, easily supporting me as I grew limp. My moans tapered off into whispers; I felt as if I were drifting into a pleasant dream. I knew nothing but peaceful surrender and Merrick's steady embrace. I could still feel him against me, though my hands had slid from his shoulders and wilted, somewhere, I did not know. Gradually my body grew detached from my senses except for the point that was joined to his teeth, and even that was taking on the soft haze of a memory.
The darkness behind my eyelids was a curtain of black velvet, tangible before me. I began to float backward from it, back and back, and out through the top of my skull.
And then I saw myself from above, as though I were some specter floating over us in that dark entry hall. I saw myself hanging in his arms, limp as a piece of silk, my upturned face awash with contentment. My pale brown skin had grown pallid, my lips colorless, so that my wood-colored hair appeared much darker than usual.
At first Merrick's face was hidden in my neck, but then he unfastened his lips from my throat and let out a long, shuddering breath. He planted a tender kiss upon my cheek. Then, in one smooth motion, he swept my feet off of the floor and carried me toward the stairwell at the back of the hallway.